Tag: cats

Peppermint Scented Cat

Whiskers a foot long
Her black coat soft, tinged with gray
Smells of peppermint

My own bonny cat
Thirteen years to her credit
Smells of peppermint

Like a dowager
Awaiting a grandchild’s call
Smells of peppermint

Luxuriant pose
Paws stretch horizontally
Smells of peppermint

Scout, my feline fair
Lingered, languished within sheets
Smells of peppermint

I’ve been trying to ward off spiders by using peppermint essential oils mixed with water as a spray for our bedding. Scout, our older cat, has become something of a peppermint junkie. She lounges about on my bed all day, smells wonderful, and seems to be spider-free.

peace, people!

Whew

I’d been dreading a doctor’s appointment for the past couple of months. Apparently my blood work from a recent physical indicated that I might be hosting a debilitating illness in my aging body, and my physician referred me to a specialist.

Of course I’m a bit of a hypochondriac, so my mind went to all the dark places: Rabies, Parvo virus, Heartworm. And then I remembered that I’m neither a dog nor a cat. But still, the mind kept straying to thoughts better left unexamined.

I also worried that the specialist would be eager to prescribe all sorts of medications that would just make me feel like an old broad. An injection here, a pill there, and soon I’d be wrestling a list of side effects longer than Kareem Abdul Jabar’s right arm. It happens.

Today I met with the specialist. He was a lovely man who visited first with me about the book I was reading before leaping into the medical stuff. The man knew how to woo me. 

After a thorough exam he asked, “How old are you again?”

“Nearly 60,” I said.

“Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. You’re just fine.”

“Well, I drink a lot of wine,” I said.

“Increase the dose,” he replied.

I might’ve made up that last line.

Peace, and good health people!

Have Cat; Will Travel

Patches thinks I’ve been gone too much:

Maybe next time I’ll take her along.

 

Stranger in the Night

I have a fondness for wildlife, especially when I’m safely tucked inside my home or car or indeed anywhere that the wildlife cannot possibly physically impact me. Sometimes, though, these man-made barriers don’t hold up their end of the bargain and I find myself face to face, or as the case might be, butt to face with a denizen of the Florida fauna.

In the middle of the night I awoke with the urgent need to tinkle. As usual, both cats had to accompany me. Peeing alone doesn’t happen in a household of felines. Scout Kitty was her usual business minded self: “C’mon mom, get it over with and go back to bed.”

But Patches was hyper attentive, jumping up on the back of the toilet and meowing frantically. I felt a ping of moisture on my exposed derrière, and thought she had drooled on me. Ew. Still, something felt off. I finished my business and upon turning to flush realized that it hadn’t been cat drool on my hind end, but this:

  
Now, I didn’t shriek, but I did giggle as I imagined this little guy pinging off of my butt and onto the toilet. 

  
I carefully helped the little stranger climb into an empty trash can and carried him outside where he could rejoin the league of frogs serenading the night. 

“Run free little guy!” I called after him.

You might wonder what Studly Doright was doing during all of this excitement. Snoring. He was snoring. At least Patches had my butt, I mean my back.

How about a little Sinatra? Appropriate in this situation.

https://g.co/kgs/DLjynD

Peace, people.

Frog Talk And Wonder Woman

Studly Doright is still snoring. I’m sitting on the screened in porch, sipping my coffee and waiting for the sun to rise. It’ll be at least another half hour before the lake gets any rays, and the darkness is deep. I wouldn’t venture out past the back door just yet; although, I imagine Wonder Woman wouldn’t be afraid of the dark.

The frogs are busy. They don’t croak. They click and clack and chirp. Some sound like those pendulum desk toys with metal balls bouncing off one another faster and faster, louder and louder, until they suddenly cease as if a large hand has intervened in the laws of physics.

When the amphibians’ chatter ends, birds begin tentatively singing their morning songs. Some contribute lilting melodies while others sound vaguely like annoying car alarms. Where is the giant’s hand?

The sky has begun to lighten and the squirrels are dancing in the dry leaves as my cat Patches attends to their every move. I imagine in her dreams she chases them down and gives them a good scolding. 

  
I really don’t want to move from this spot, but even Wonder Woman has work to do.

  
Peace, and good morning, people!

Stroke of Luck

I glanced at my Fitbit. I’d walked exactly 555 steps. Five is my lucky number.

I thought, “Wow! Something wonderful is about to happen!”

That’s when the cat puked.

  

Sitting on the Deck in the Company of Cats

Sunday morning wake up call, a pair of paws pat my face

Up, hurry up, we need a treat and then they’re off in heated race.

Pull on favorite Sunday wear, faded sundress and flip flops,

Splash some water on my face, run a brush through my mop.

Stumblebum into the kitchen, set coffee on to brew,

Putter bleary-eyed to the place where the felines sit and mew.

By their urgency one would think they’d not eaten in days,

Their respective weights dispel that lie in unambiguous ways.

Coffee’s perked, a cup is poured, I grab my current book,

And slip outside to honeysuckle’s welcome in my sheltered nook.

Ripples slide across the lake, while a tiny lizard scampers,

My cats examine its every move in hopes that they can batter.

And I sit and sip my coffee with a splash of Irish cream,

As breezes rustle through the pines and invite sweet daydreams.

  
Peace, people.

When One Cat Cannot Find the Other 

What a commotion she makes when her sister goes missing

Even though when they’re paired there’s often much hissing

Rooower! Rooower! Scout calls as she wanders

Come out! Right now! Where are you? She ponders.

When finally lured from her best hiding place

Patches stretches long, with disdain on her face.

Dear sister, Patches yawns, I was here all along

Why did you disturb me with your strident song?

But Scout is oblivious having now claimed

The comfortable spot on which Patches had lain.

Crafty cat Scout
Gullible sister Patches

Caption This

One of my favorite bloggers, Ellen Hawley (Notes from the U.K.), recently posted a quirky photo and solicited captions for it. Here’s the link to Ellen’s post: http://wp.me/p4FooO-kN

I submitted a caption, but a winner had already been declared. Story of my freaking life. But two, or two hundred, can play this game, and I vowed to find a photo worthy of captioning. 

I give you:

  
So submit your caption, and we’ll decide on a best one and maybe honorable mentions. There could be medals or trophies or something.